


Confirmation

by justheretoreadhannibalfics



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Fromage rewrite, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, M/M, One Shot, Ruffled Hannibal, Will Graham Has Encephalitis, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, Will Knows, because I had a craving, but he's hella in denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:33:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28655025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justheretoreadhannibalfics/pseuds/justheretoreadhannibalfics
Summary: Will isn't exactly in a great place, mentally, but he knows there's something about Hannibal's story that doesn't fit what he knows about this killer.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 14
Kudos: 151
Collections: Hannibal One Shots





	Confirmation

**Author's Note:**

> I know this has been done about a hundred times, but I wrote it anyway. If I write something, I'm gonna post it. I hope you enjoy it.

Will had never seen Hannibal like this. He had actually, somehow, believed the man was incapable of appearing as anything other than perfectly composed and put together.

Until now.

Hannibal’s hair had been thrown over his brow and his lip was split. There was a cut right across the bridge of his nose, and his gaze was distant. He looked dazed, almost in shock. It was so different from how he usually looked, present and sharp.

Hannibal glanced up and caught sight of Will, his expression instantly softening with relief. Will felt an echo of the feeling within himself, glad the other man was pleased to see him. He had felt a bit awkward when he had asked to come with Jack, but that one look made that concern leave him.

Will picked his way through the scene, taking in the details as best he could through his own pain and ringing ears. They were both dulling a bit with time, but they were still present in the back of his mind. 

“I was worried you were dead.”

The words cut through Will like a knife to the heart. 

He had admitted to himself already that he had a bit of a crush on his psychiatrist, but he had thought it would go away with time. Hannibal was not only  _ way _ out of his league, but he had a refined taste that most certainly didn’t include scruffy fishermen with mental issues.

Hearing that even in the time he was fighting for his life, Hannibal had worried about Will’s well-being, Will was unable to force down the feeling. He knew he was staring a bit, but he couldn’t help it.

“Tobias Budge killed two Baltimore police officers, nearly killed an FBI special agent, and after all that, his first stop is here, at your office.”

Will didn’t look at Jack as he spoke. He just continued to study Hannibal, seeing everything as if for the first time. He saw how Hannibal’s expression shifted to one of almost blank lack of emotion as he turned to address Jack. He saw the way his eyes flickered to the bodies on the floor, and how his breathing pattern didn’t change a beat.

“He came to kill my patient.”

_ No _ . That wasn’t right.

Will furrowed his brow a bit as he watched Hannibal turn even further away from him as he spoke. Something about Hannibal’s answer didn’t fit with what Will knew.

“Your patient. Is that who Budge was serenading?” Will asked, probing the issue further without giving Jack any reason to worry. He needed to see how Hannibal would react.

Hannibal turned back and looked up at Will, some sort of  _ knowing _ glimmering in his eyes as he answered.

“I don’t know. Franklyn knew more than he was telling me. He told Mr. Budge that he didn’t have to kill anymore.”

Hannibal paused, swallowing. He was no longer meeting Will’s gaze, which made Will even more curious. He sounded as sincere as one possibly could, yet Will had an itch under his skin telling him it was all wrong. Franklyn wasn’t the target. Not of the serenade, and not of this attack. 

“And then he broke Franklyn’s neck, and then he attacked me.”

Hannibal looked up at Jack, then, and Will wondered if he was checking to see if the story was being believed. 

“You killed him?” Jack asked.

Despite the question, it was obvious Jack didn’t suspect anything about the story. He had no reason to doubt Hannibal, and no reason to believe the killer would have wanted to target him.

“Yes.”

Hannibal’s answer to the question was soft, and his eyes drifted back down to the floor of his office. 

Will’s head started to ache again, and he couldn’t quite get his thoughts in order. He needed to learn more, but he didn’t want to make Jack upset.

“Could Franklyn have been involved in whatever Budge was doing?” he asked, furrowing his brow against the pain in an attempt to focus on his own words.

Hannibal didn’t meet his eyes again. It was odd, because Will was usually the one out of them that would avoid eye contact.

“I thought this was a simple matter of poor choice in friends,” Hannibal said, huffing the words through a bitter laugh.

Jack started to shift away, sighing softly.

“This doesn’t feel simple to me,” he said, walking away to oversee the rest of the scene.

Hannibal still didn’t look up to Will once Jack was gone. Will moved to lean against the edge of the desk, leaning in slightly to get a closer look at his wounds. 

Will felt a bit guilty for thinking it, but he had to admit Hannibal still looked goddamn amazing, even as disheveled as he was. Maybe this was something Will should be worried about, but he actually thought this was a good look for the man. He looked more human, and something deep in Will’s chest urged him to kiss the blood away.

Hannibal started to turn towards Will, and Will pressed his lips together when their eyes met again.

“I feel like I’ve dragged you into my world,” he said, watching for a reaction.

Hannibal smiled softly, almost seeming amused. 

“I got here on my own, but I appreciate the company,” Hannibal replied, tipping his head slightly and causing his hair to fall even further into his face.

There was something more to those words. Will couldn’t figure it out just then, his thoughts still muddled and blurred by the pain in the back of his skull. There was something he couldn’t see yet. Something Hannibal was trying to show him, and all he had to do was look.

Will smiled softly at the man, who smiled back up at him in return.

Will impulsively reached forward and wiped a bit of blood from Hannibal’s chin with his thumb. Hannibal’s eyes widened minutely as the gesture, and he just stared up at Will. Will wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but it seemed as if his body was acting of its own accord. He brushed Hannibal’s hair away from his face, exposing his eyes.

Will didn’t like eye contact. That meant he usually didn’t even know what people’s eye color was. 

It was different with Hannibal.

Hannibal’s eyes were a dark brown, almost burgundy, that glittered with red and gold depending on the light. Most of the time, the only way to really know how Hannibal felt about something was to look into his eyes.

And Will loved Hannibal’s eyes.

With anyone else, Will hated eye contact, but with Hannibal, Will wanted to let himself drown in what he could see there.

It was probably dangerous.

“Will.”

It was a whisper. Almost just a breath. Hannibal didn’t seem to be fully aware he had spoken, and it hadn’t been loud enough for anyone else to hear.

“Can I drive you to the hospital?” Will asked, dropping his hand as he felt his face heat up. He glanced away, but his gaze only ended up returning to Hannibal’s regardless.

“I am quite capable of taking care of my own injuries,” Hannibal replied, sounding a bit offended at the idea that Will would think anything else were true.

Will huffed a soft laugh and shook his head.

“I know you are,” he said, “but it’s best if you go to the hospital. They need to catalogue all your injuries for the report. I’m sure whoever takes care of you will do a fine job.”

Hannibal looked like he almost wanted to argue, but he met Will’s eyes and his expression softened again.

“Very well,” he said with a curt nod, moving to stand up.

Will immediately reached out to support him, and Hannibal’s hand gripped onto Will’s arm. Hannibal stared at his own hand as if he hadn’t meant to accept the help. It was odd to see the man look like he wasn’t sure of everything. Hannibal usually seemed like a force of nature, untouchable and immovable. Now, he seemed vulnerable and… tangible.

“Thank you,” Hannibal said politely, releasing his grip on Will’s arm and straightening his jacket, “are you sure you are in a condition to drive after your own encounter?”

Will saw Hannibal’s eyes flicker to his bandaged hand, and he ducked his head. He didn’t know why, but he felt embarrassed to admit to Hannibal that he had been injured. It was absurd, especially since Hannibal was in far worse shape than he.

“I’m alright. An EMT looked me over before I followed Jack here,” Will lied.

The EMT had tried to get him to stick around for a more thorough check over, but he had rushed directly to Hannibal’s office and ignored them. He didn’t need Hannibal to know that, though.

Hannibal gave Will a skeptical glance, but smiled and nodded regardless.

Will told Jack he was taking Hannibal to the hospital, and then they headed out to the car. 

They were both mostly quiet during the drive to the hospital, only saying a few words to each other that Will quickly forgot. In the small enclosed space of the car, Will could smell the blood on Hannibal. It was a heady scent, and one that he had always thought was sort of nice in moderation. When it didn’t saturate the air, it was somewhat pleasant.

Will stayed with Hannibal, not even noticing the strange looks the nurse gave him as he trailed behind them from one room to another as the examination went forward. Will took note of every injury they found on Hannibal, filing them away without realizing why he was so concerned about it. Will watched as Hannibal was patched up, seeing every small wince from the man when they were a bit careless with an injury. 

Will had to stop himself from snarling at a nurse when she curiously poked a gloved finger directly into one of the cuts on Hannibal’s arm. 

Hannibal seemed to notice his odd behavior, sending Will reassuring glances every so often and keeping him at bay.

On the way back out to the car, Hannibal laid a gentle hand on Will’s arm, stopping him. Will turned to the man and was met with a curious expression.

“Are you feeling unwell, Will?” Hannibal asked, “you have been acting somewhat odd.”

Will shook his head, pulling his arm away. He didn’t want to admit that he hadn’t actually minded the contact.

“You’re the one who almost died today, Hannibal,” he said, continuing toward the car, “let’s just get you home. You need some rest.”

Hannibal got into the car when Will did, and was quiet for a few moments as Will pulled away from the hospital.

“You were also in danger today, Will,” Hannibal reminded him, “and I was worried for you. You deserve rest and care as much as I, if not more.”

Will scoffed.

“I’m FBI. It’s part of the job description,” he shot back, not wanting to have an argument about who deserved what, “you’re a civilian. It’s the job of people like me to protect people like you.”

Hannibal hummed softly, though it wasn’t in agreement.

“Do you feel responsible? Do you feel you were unable to protect me?” he asked.

Will sighed. It was frustrating to try having this kind of conversation with a psychiatrist. Hannibal always managed to pick apart the true meaning of his words.

“The only reason I’m alive is because I thought I heard something outside the shop,” Will confessed, “I missed his initial attack on the officers. By the time he attacked me, I already knew it was coming. I should have been more alert, seen him coming, and shot him before he got me. If I had done that, he never would have made it to your office.”

It was all true. Will should have cleared the basement room before he had walked up to the fallen officer. It was basic FBI training, that any of his students would probably have been able to do better than he had. He had forgotten it all, and stumbled in blindly, opening himself up for attack.

“Will,” Hannibal said gently, “it is not your fault. You are not meant to be fighting the killers personally. The fact that you are alive is more than I could have asked for.”

Will grit his teeth together, trying to understand the meanings of Hannibal’s words through the haze in his head.

“You’re not supposed to be fighting them either,” Will snapped, “and it’s because of me he made it to you.”

Hannibal sighed softly in the passenger seat.

“Will. Let me take a look at your injuries. I know you have not been taken care of yet.”

The offer surprised Will. It almost sounded like a request. It was something Hannibal wanted to do, not just something he felt obligated to. That was something that almost never changed with Hannibal. He never felt obligated to do things, and would do them if he wanted to. Very little could affect the man. Will envied him for that.

They pulled up in front of Hannibal’s home, and Will nodded. They both got out and Hannibal led Will to the kitchen where he pulled out a medical kit.

Will held out his hands, showing Hannibal the cuts from the wires. Hannibal undid the hurried wrap on one of Will’s hands that the EMT had managed before Will had run away from them. He held each of Will’s hands gently as he looked over the injuries, his eyes critical of the cuts.

Hannibal silently cleaned the wounds, his touch as gentle as anything, and began to wrap them.

“I know you didn’t tell Jack the truth,” Will said, his voice apparently deciding to take control of the situation by itself.

Hannibal paused slightly in his wrapping, glancing up to Will. Will was staring at his hands, held so gently in Hannibal’s. Hannibal continued.

“You did not say anything until now,” Hannibal replied calmly.

Will nodded distractedly.

“I actually can’t really be sure of anything at the moment,” Will confessed, “but I make a living from interpreting the evidence. What you said doesn’t fit with what I can see. Budge wasn’t serenading Franklyn. He didn’t go to your office to kill him. I don’t know why you lied, but I know it was a lie.”

Hannibal hummed as he finished up Will’s hands, holding them for a second longer than necessary before he dropped them back to Will’s sides.

“What reason do you think I might have for lying to Jack?” Hannibal asked.

Will was keenly aware of the fact he was trapped. Not only by being in Hannibal’s home, but Hannibal was caging him against the kitchen counter, leaning into Will’s personal space in a way that would have made him panic were it anyone else.

“I think you knew about Budge before you told me about him,” Will said carefully, “I think you probably even talked to him. He wanted to kill you for turning him in, because he thought you two were friends.”

Hannibal tipped his head slightly, his eyes glittering with interest.

“Why do you think I would turn him in, if I had kept it a secret before then?” he asked.

Will blinked. His thoughts were falling into line better now, though he didn’t really know why. Things were making more sense.

“You didn’t want to be his friend,” he found himself saying, “you wanted to show him that you didn’t think he was worthy of it.”

Hannibal considered that for a moment, breathing in deeply as if he could smell something on Will he enjoyed.

“Who am I to deny a dangerous man my friendship?”

Will smiled and huffed a soft laugh.

“You killed him, so clearly you’re more dangerous than he was,” he said, “and he wouldn’t want just anyone to be his friend. He had to know you were dangerous.”

Hannibal nodded gently, leaning in further until he was almost pressed up against Will.

“And what does that make me?” he whispered.

“The Chesapeake Ripper,” Will said, only realizing what he had just said a heartbeat after they left his mouth.

Will froze, staring at Hannibal. He had no idea how Hannibal would react to being accused of being the Ripper. Either he was, in which case Will was probably in very real danger, or he wasn’t, and Will had just insulted someone he considered a good friend.

A friend.

“That’s why you didn’t want to be friends with him,” Will realize, breathing the words in shock, “you only need one friend who can understand you, and you’ve been making me into that for you.”

Hannibal pulled back slightly, his eyes widening a touch. 

Will looked over Hannibal’s face, the slowly darkening bruises along his jaw and the split lip. The man’s hair still hung in his face, and Will huffed a soft laugh at the sight. He lifted one of his hands and brushed it away as he had earlier.

“Funny how that works,” Will whispered, “I thought we might be more than friends.”

Hannibal blinked once before he moved forward and caught Will’s lips in a kiss. The force of the kiss pulled the split in Hannibal’s lip open again, tainting it with the taste of blood. Will couldn’t stop himself from actually enjoying that thought. He was consuming Hannibal, as he had consumed so many others.

“You eat them,” Wil gasped when they broke apart, “and you’ve fed them to me without me knowing.”

Hannibal just stared at Will, as if unable to believe this was actually happening. Will curled his hands into the fabric of Hannibal’s suit, pulling him closer and holding him there.

“What a shame. I would have given them the appreciation they deserved if I had known,” he said, kissing Hannibal again.

Hannibal’s kiss was like fire, burning and consuming, and warming Will from the inside out. Will couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t tried it earlier. 

“You have encephalitis,” Hannibal said when they pulled apart again.

Will blinked in surprise, considering what that meant.

“That explains a lot,” he mused, “and how long have you known, Doctor Lecter? You’ve been hoping it will make me more pliable? Easier for you to mold into what you want?”

“I had my suspicions when you began sleepwalking,” Hannibal admitted, though he sounded more curious than guilty, “and they were confirmed when it began to manifest in your personal scent.”

Will grinned, unable to help it.

“I knew you smelled me, you bastard.”

Hannibal tipped his head in a gesture as close to a shrug as Will would ever get from the man.

“I had considered the effects it would have on your unique mind, and I confess I am still curious. Regardless, I no longer feel the experiment is a priority.”

Will hummed, smiling and tugging Hannibal even closer.

“Is that right? I wonder what might have changed your mind about that.”

Hannibal kissed him again, taking the hint. 

The encephalitis could be dealt with later. For the moment, nothing mattered but the two of them. Even Jack, or Budge, or anyone else, could not interrupt them without finding some unpleasant consequences. 

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. I have a lot of random fic ideas up in my head. At least I can get them out and work on other things, right? XD no. I'm never free. Thanks for reading. <3


End file.
